Restaurant and Bakery Consulting

Friday, December 28, 2012

In the Deep South three dishes are requisite fare on New Year’s Day, and all
three are based on not only on culinary superstition and food symbolism, but
the fact that they are abundant and cheap. Cornbread is colored gold, symbolic
of riches and fortune; it also rises as it cooks and increases volume, which signifies
increasing wealth. Collard greens are, of course, green, suggestive of folding
money. Green is also the symbolic color of hope, and a color associated with
natural growth: the new buds of a tree or new shoots in a rice field, for
example. Black eyed peas, AKA “cow peas”, were grown in the rest of the country
to feed cattle, but in the South they are a drought-resistant food staple that
thrives in the hottest part of the summer. In the South we love our black eyed
peas, and the good luck symbolism is apparent. Their shape loosely resembles a
coin (okay, admittedly that one’s a bit of a stretch), but more importantly,
they swell up when they cook, greatly increasing their volume, much as you want
wealth to expand during the coming year. Some believe you're supposed to eat
one pea for each day of the coming year.
In the South, we cook black-eyed peas with smoked ham hock, salted hog jowl,
bacon, or pork sausage. Nothing expresses prosperity in non-Jewish and
non-Muslim cultures like the pig. Pigs root and feed going forward, symbolizing
progress without dwelling on the past. Pigs can feast on scraps, bear many
young, and yield lots of meat, much of which can be preserved for later
consumption; fatty meat equals a fat wallet.
One popular New Year's Day Southern American dish is “Hoppin’ John”,
triple-blessed since it includes black-eyed peas, rice (the many grains signify
abundance, and it swells as it cooks), and ham hock. A shiny dime is often
thrown into the Hoppin’ John cooking pot, and the person getting the dime in
their bowl is due an extra portion of good luck. On the day after New Year's
Day, leftover Hoppin’ John becomes “Skippin’ Jenny”, and eating it demonstrates
powerful frugality, bringing one even better chances of prosperity. Lots of Southerners believe that you’re
supposed to put a face-up coin under the bowl of peas, or throw a coin into the
pea cooking pot, the person finding the coin receiving extra luck.
Call it food for cows and farm animals if you want, but the triumvirate of
peas, greens, and cornbread is not only a triple threat luck-wise, but absolutely
freakin’ delicious when it hits the table.As for bringing good luck, who can say? All I know is that it can't hurt!

Mick’s Mile-High Cornbread
Yield: 1 skillet of cornbread
This recipe originated with my pal Chef Ray Tatum of Austin’s excellent Three
Little Pigs trailer, but over the years it’s been modified considerably. You
can use all-white or all-yellow cornmeal if you like, or mix them in any
proportion.
If you don’t have any buttermilk, you can fake it by these methods:
• Add 1 tablespoon of vinegar or lemon juice into enough regular milk to equal
1 cup. Allow this mixture to sit for 10 minutes to give it time to thicken
before adding it to the ingredients.
• Or mix plain yogurt with whole milk. To make 1 cup buttermilk, mix 3/4 cup
yogurt with 1/4 cup whole milk.

1 cup white cornmeal

1 cup yellow cornmeal

¼ cup sugar

1 Tbl salt

3 heaping tsp baking powder

1 heaping tsp baking soda

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 cup buttermilk

3 jumbo eggs, lightly beaten

3 teaspoons minced garlic

Optional:

3 large jalapeños, minced (seeds
and membranes removed for less heat if needed)

2/3 cup frozen white corn, thawed

3 to 4 green onions, minced

1 cup Monterrey jack or pepper
jack cheese, shredded

Preheat oven to 425°F and place a
cast iron skillet inside. In a large mixing bowl combine all of the dry
ingredients and mix well. Add the oil, buttermilk, and eggs and incorporate,
mixing just enough to blend the ingredients. Fold in the jalapeños, corn, and
scallions. Remove the skillet and lubricate liberally with lard, bacon fat, butter,
or vegetable oil (lard will give the best flavor and a crispier crust). Scrape
the contents of the bowl into the skillet and lightly smooth the top. Bake for
30 to 40 minutes; if the optional ingredients have not been used it will take about 30 minutes; if they have been used
expect 40 minutes. The top should be golden brown and a skewer inserted into
the middle will come out clean. If using, the cheese should be sprinkled on
when the top of the cornbread almost reaches the light-golden stage.

Southern Collard Greens with
Bacon and Balsamic Vinegar
Serves 4
A pot of collard greens is always referred to in the South as a “mess of
greens”, and the vitamin-rich, bacon-seasoned savory broth in the bottom of the
pot is called potlikker. Traditionally the white plantation owners of the South
consumed the cooked and drained collard greens while the slave cooks, who
understood the high nutritive value of potlikker, saved the broth to supplement
their family’s diets. Nothing is better for soaking up the potlikker than a hot
piece of crusty cornbread that’s been split down the middle and slathered with
sweet butter.
The Great Potlikker and Cornpone Debate in February and March of 1931 pitted
Julian Harris, an editor at the Atlanta Constitution, against Huey “The
Kingfish” Long, the backwoods populist governor and soon to be U.S.
senator-elect from Louisiana. The traditionalist Harris contended that
Southerners must crumble cornpone into potlikker, criticizing Long as an
unrefined rube, who contended that the corpone should instead be dunked. What started
as a lighthearted fluff piece in the paper turned into a 23-day long news event
that captivated the South (and the nation), and ended up dealing with all
manner of cultural affairs, including race, gender, class, and regional
chauvinism. For what it’s worth, we prefer eating our potlikker-soaked, from a solid
block of cornbread, eaten with a spoon.
2 bunches of collard greens, washed well, central ribs removed, chopped
coarsely
¾ pound thick-sliced bacon, sliced thinly
1 large onion, halved and sliced
6 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups rich chicken stock
3 to 4 tablespoons Balsamic vinegar, to taste
2 to 3 tablespoons white sugar, to taste
1 to 2 teaspoons coarsely ground black pepper, to taste
Cornbread to soak up the potlikker
In a large stock pot with a lid, sauté the bacon over medium low heat until the
fat is rendered and the bacon golden brown. Add the onion and sauté over medium
heat until transparent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and sauté 30 seconds.
Add the collards and stir well, briefly sautéing the greens in the bacon fat.
Add the chicken stock, stir well, and place the lid on the pot. Allow the
greens to cook down for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, and add 3
tablespoons of the vinegar, 2 tablespoons of the sugar, and 1 teaspoon of the
black pepper. Stir well for a minute and taste for seasonings. The broth should
be rich from the bacon and stock, there should be underlying saltiness from the
bacon, and the vinegar and sugar should add a subtle sweet-tart flavor. Cook
for another 5 minutes and taste again, adding more vinegar, sugar, and pepper
if desired. Do a final tasting for salt just before service.
Serve in a bowl with plenty of the pottliker. A piece of crusty hot buttered
cornbread makes an excellent accompaniment.
Southern-Soulfood Black Eyed Peas
Serves 8
These black eyed peas are made using a smoked ham hock, but a leftover meaty
bone from the holiday ham also works real nice. In a pinch you can use smoked
sausage, a quarter pound of some good, thick-sliced smoked bacon, or even a
rinsed slab of sliced salt pork. Fresh black eyed peas are always best, but finding
them this time of the year is nigh impossible, so frozen is preferred over
canned. Generally the “fresh” peas you find in the produce section of your supermarket
around New Year’s are just dried peas that have been soaked and reconstituted;
you can do that much more economically on your own.
Add cooked rice to these black eyed peas and the dish becomes Hoppin’ John, a
dish popularized with the slave laborers in the Old South. Slaves were imported
from rice-producing West Africa to work the rice fields in the Low Country and
Deep South, and black eyed peas and field peas were grown to provide a cheap,
plentiful crop to feed the slaves and the cattle. The slaves stewed the peas
and rice together as they had in their native Africa, and the dish became
popular in the period between Christmas and the new spring planting, when the
fields were fallow and the laborers were given some much needed time to rest. Many
speculate on the origin of the name of the dish, but no solid historical
evidence has surfaced.
2 pounds frozen or fresh black eyed peas
3 cups chicken broth
2 cups water
1 lb smoked ham hock
5 cloves garlic, minced or mashed into a paste
1 large onion, chopped coarsely
2 celery ribs, sliced thinly
2 carrots, diced
2 to 4 jalapeno peppers, minced (seeds and ribs removed for less heat if
desired)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 bay leaf
½ teaspoon thyme
Place the black-eyed peas in a stock pot
and add the chicken stock, 2 cups of water, ham hock, garlic, onions, celery,
carrots, jalapenos, salt and pepper to the black-eyed peas and bring to a boil.
Let boil gently for about 10 minutes and skim any scum that rises to the
surface. Reduce heat to a low simmer, add the bay leaf and thyme, and cook while
stirring occasionally, covered, for about 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until
black-eyed peas are tender. Remove the ham hock, let it cool enough to handle
it, and remove any good meat from the bone, shredding it and adding it back
into the peas.
Here’s a link to a 2008 article I wrote for The
Austin Chronicle that covers the New Year good luck food superstitions
around the globe. Read it and you’ll see some definite trends emerge,
regardless of the cuisine or culture: http://www.austinchronicle.com/food/2008-12-26/718923/

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

We convened at Rancho Winslow for the annual Xmas dinner, again this year
adopting the theme of the prime rib. There was a Nolan Ryan President’s Cut 6-bone
that had been seasoned the night before, and brought out of the fridge several
hours early before it sacrificed itself to an 8-hour excursion in a 220° F
oven. That’s how we used to cook the herds of prime ribs that we served at Pelican’s
Wharf, way back in the day. Low and slow. Low and slow.
I have to criticize Nolan’s meat cutters: they left bits of the chine bone on
the meat, which presented some challenges carving the roasted slab. A 109A
prime rib back in the days of good meat would never have any chine left on. Other
than negotiating those chine bones, carving was a breeze using Robert “Empty
Leg” Abraham’s family heirloom razor-sharp carbon steel antique carving set.
Also attending besides Roberto and I were Sarah and Elan (sic…sorry if it’s spelled
wrong), Princess Di and C-Boy, Jules, Jeffrey “Brainiac” Barnes (the rock star
sax genius of Brave Combo and Diane’s brother) and the lovely and petite Gina, and
Grandma Nancy. Hershey once again proved she was the best of the Rancho perros;
far superior to Toby and Raleigh.
On the side was a groaning board of a three layer Italian cheese terrine, a
wheel of brie, assorted Xmas cookies, amaretto Jordan almonds, chocolate
covered dried cranberries, mega-sized kettle corn (never seen popcorn that big),
three types of crackers, yogurt pretzels, assorted nuts, spicy walnuts with rosemary,
wasabi peas, etc., etc.; all designed to ruin an appetite.

There was a fruit plate, of juicy seedless grapes, sweet, aromatic pineapple, and
ripe strawberries to munch on.

Di whipped up her famous twice baked stuffed potatoes: huge Idaho’s baked, scooped,
mixed with cheddar, scallion, sour cream, and bacon, then stuffed back in, and
topped with paprika. Here’s a shot of them before their second baking.

I missed a shot of the roasted asparagus, but you’ll have to trust me. I made a
sauce of roasted beef bone beef stock, some brandy, with crimini mushrooms,
shitake mushrooms, and roasted garlic. Due to the excitement I forgot to mount
the sauce with butter before service, but it was plenty rich on it’s own and
didn’t need it.

I cooked a huge wad of sautéed mushrooms, with shallots and butter.

Jules constructed a nice romaine salad with ripe garden tomatoes, cucumber,
shredded carrots, and red onion, and there was an assortment of dressings
(chunky blue cheese seemed to be the winner).

The roast was gorgeous, tender, juicy, and tender; damn near perfect with the
mushroom gravy draped over the top. There was a trio of dinner rolls to sop up
the delicious juices with, white, wheat, and dark whole grain.

Jeffrey made a crowd favorite chocolate-cherry drop cake and Gina made a rich chocolate
fondue for dipping gingerbread marshmallows into. There was also fresh
gingerbread and some leftover pobre caballero. We ate like kings, until we
couldn’t eat any more. Robert brought an
assortment of wines (whose names escape me), but there was a superlative
Rhiengau, a Rousson (nice once it breathed a bit), and a great Spanish garnacha.
There was Shiner Wild Hare Pale Ale, and 1554 Black Ale from New Belgium
Brewers. We drank well. It was Xmas at Rancho Winslow and it was good…very,
very good. Outside the cold wind howled, inside the fireplace crackled and we grunted with satisfaction and glee.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Miss Loretta getting her La Paloma on....With either the Mayan-predicted end of the world, or the beginning of a new age
of enlightenment, whichever you want to believe fast approaching, a day of
furious cooking led to the (almost) completion of the planned menu; the Pobre
Caballero didn’t get made until the next morning, as a brunch item. Attending
our little soirée at Rancho Winslow were El Lotto Bionico (me), Chris (AKA
“CBoy”), Princess Di, Winslow spawn Sarah (who jetted in from Ft. Lauderdale),
Jules, Rob “Empty Leg” Abraham, Phillip and Miss Loretta, Wally and Debbie, and
Dr. Phil and the charming Cookie; a frisky and exuberant group ready for
a 13th B’ak’tun Bacchanalia.The bar was stocked with Bohemia, Noche Buena, and Indio (all excellent Mexican
beers) and all the fixins to make batches of a mixology-oriented La Paloma
cocktail, made with Herradura Blanco, a grapefruit-infused agave simple syrup,
Bitterman’s Grapefruit Bitters, tart Key lime juice, Ruby Red grapefruit juice,
and Topo Chico Agua Mineral con Gas (the bubbliest of all seltzers). Dr. Phil
showed up with a bottle of Herradura Añejo, which we tapped late into the night,
for a sip-and-chat session. Rob served ably as group bartender, and everyone
got reasonably snockered.
For appetizer I had made a big bowl of Sikil P'aak, an ancient Mayan dip of roasted pumpkin seeds
(pepitas) and fire-charred tomatoes, tomatillos, serranos, garlic, and onion, all
blended with sour orange juice and chicken stock. I backed off the chicken
stock called-for because I was worried it would thin it out too much and subbed
some Caldo de Pollo bouillon powder by Knorr. This dip was the ancient precursor
of the pumpkin and squash seed-based pepian mole sauces to follow. I had never
made it before and didn’t really know what to expect, but when I tasted it, it
seemed like a really delicious Mayan hummus. We ate it with the tostados
(actually known as totopos in Mexico) that we got from Tortilleria Rio Grande
II on Wm. Cannon, just east of South 1st. They are the best totopos in ATX, and Cookie,
who grew up in Laredo and should know these things, agreed. The entire large
bowl vanished. Everybody loved this dip and it will be made many more times.

Sikil P'aak pumpkin seed dip with TRG II totopos

When CBoy and I picked up the totopos, corn tortillas (also excellent), and
flour tortillas that morning I convinced him to try TRG II’s gorditas, which
are the best in ATX. We each got a queso y raja (gooey melted asadero Mexican
white cheese and copious strips of roasted poblano chile), and their puerco y
papa con nopalito en salsa roja (tender chunks of pork braised in a red chile
sauce with potato and cactus pad strips). Chris freaked out over how good the
gorditas were, and the tortillas we got were freshly made and still warm.

The delectable Sopa de
Lima con Pavo soup was made using the frame of the leftover Thanksgiving
turkey and I simmered the rich stock for three hours. One tiny habanero heated
up the huge pot, but it was rich, loaded with vegetables (including chayote),
and tart from the Mexican lime juice. I had planned on making a batch of
chilmole - AKA recado negro, otherwise known as “burnt” chile paste - but the
soup was already near the limits of what most of the diners could handle
spice-wise.

Along with the fresh tortillas from TRG II, there were three condiments and two
salads.I made a batch of the obligatory
cebollas encurtados, Yucatecan
pickled red onions with sour orange juice, garlic, allspice, clove, Mexican oregano,
pepper, and vinegar; essential in balancing the richness of cochinita pibil. I
also made a batch of xnipec (aka “Dog's Nose” Salsa), a fresh salsa of homegrown
tomato, red onion, garlic, güero and habanero chiles, sour orange juice, cilantro,
a splash of vinegar, pinch of sugar, and salt. This stuff is great on anything.
I bought a bottle of El Yucateco’s K'uut Bi Ik Salsa, made from pounded dried habanero
and ancho chiles, charred onion and garlic, water, salt, and a pinch of sugar;
very spicy and fantastic. The salads were ensalada zek, with Mandarin orange segments and diced jicama, cucumber,
sour orange juice, olive oil, and garlic, and we had a bottle of Tajin Classico
seasoning to sprinkle over it, made from pequin chile powder, dehydrated lime
peel and salt. Very tasty and surprisingly, several of the folks had never
eaten jicama, that tuber with the crispness of raw potato and a slight apple
flavor. Zic de carne is a Mayan salad of braised, shredded skirt steak braised in an aromatic broth with
scallion, garlic, chiles, green olives, radish, and cilantro, dressed with sour
orange juice; it’s called a salpicón in Mexico, and can be eaten as a salad, a
taco, or a snack. Mayans eat really good food.

The pork shoulder for the cochinita pibil was marinated in achiote paste (made
from annatto seeds), sour orange juice, cumin, oregano, cinnamon, allspice,
pepper, güero and habanero chiles and wrapped in fresh banana leaves that had
been softened over the fire. It was all wrapped up and baked until tender, and
then Wally did the honor of shredding the tasty meat for the tacos.

Raw pork ready to seal and bake...

...sealed....

...pork cooked and unwrapped....

...cooked pork ready to shred.

On the side was a big pot of lentejas Yucatecas, lentils made with vegetables, chicken
stock, bacon, and pork (and a little chile, of course), and arroz verde, rice
which gets sautéed before it gets steamed with fire-roasted poblanos and
garlic, scallions, cilantro, parsley, lime zest, and chicken stock. Two yummy
sides appropriate for the feast.

Lentils...

Arroz verde.....

The buffet was set and the feeding frenzy commenced, and I got quite a few
hurrahs from the crowd. We stayed up until 2am waiting for the end of the
world, nipping straight añejo tequila and brandy (not mixed together), and
after witnessing neither a new awakening nor an apocalypse, we went off to
slumber with bellies full of Mayan fare and spirit.

We still had the pobre caballero to do, and Di decided after the dinner that
she would make it the next morning for brunch. The recipe calls for slices of
baguette to be soaked like French bread, dipped in beaten egg white, like a
chile relleno, and then fried. This produces the best French bread ever, and
it’s a technique that should be adopted by all.

Frenched toast, ready to layer....

Once it is fried, the slices get layered into a casserole and then drizzled with
syrup made from piloncillo (Mexican cane sugar), spices, brandy, and pecans.
The syrup seemed like twice too much the required volume, so we only used half
of it (recipe has been edited to reduce the volume). It bakes and then gets drizzled with a brandy butter sauce, which we
decided we didn’t need for breakfast. I expected heavy, syrup-laden soggy
bread, but we loved this dessert, finding it not too sweet, and much lighter
than we expected. Highly recommended.

Pobre caballero....

All in all, it was a really fun party and I’m fairly certain that everyone
loved the food and drink. I was pretty sure that the world wasn’t going to end,
and that proved to be correct, but hopefully the other prediction will come
true: the birth of a new age of enlightenment as we plunge into the beginning
of the 14thB’ak’tun of the Mayan calendar.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Last night after a book meeting Art and I decided to hit up Mi Ranchito II, at the end of Manchaca Rd, where it runs into FM 1626; he had a hankering for a good bowl of soup and I was jonesing for a burger. Disparate demands, for sure, but met perfectly by Ranchito Dos.

They have a fantastic salsa bar, and the array pictured here is, as labeled at the bar, from L to R: "Hot Tomatillo", "Hot Green" (emulsified with avocado, with serrano and poblano), number three top is "Medium Red", and bottom is "Hot Red" (which has an exuberant zippiness but an ever better smoky quality), and of course, a chile-laden pico de gallo. Not show is "Mild Green" which is an avocado-emulsified poblano sauce, and Mild Red, which is a fresh casera style. All of the salsas are excellent.

Art opted for an order of their guacamole, which we had never gotten before. It comes out in a big cup, loaded with chunks of fresh avocado, diced green chiles, onion, a little tomato, and lime juice, topped with some shredded cheese. The unit in the middle sits on a huge platter, surrounded with nice crispy, thin totopos. We will definitely order this again.

I started with one of their tamales, this one stuffed with Mexican white cheese and jalapeño chiles. The masa in their tamales is light-as-air, but rich in flavor, an indication of succulent lard that has been whipped into the masa dough prior to slathering onto the corn husks . I love their tamales, and if you need a fix for the holidays, and are too lazy to host your own tamalada, or don't have a secret source, this is the place to go. Flavors include: pork, beef, chicken, cheese and jalapeño, bean and cheese, pineapple, and one other fruit version whose species eludes me at the moment.

Art went for threir boat-sized bowl of caldo de res, beef soup with onions, garlic, carrot, squash, green beans, cabbage, and potato, all in a very rich beef broth with meltingly tender meat. It comes with a stack of hot tortillas (not house-made, but very high quality) and a cup of their excellent rice. He went for a side taco of carnitas, shredded rich pork cooked in pork fat; top notch here at Ranchito Dos.

I swooned when my Mexican Burger arrived, a nice hefty patty smoky from the grill, that has been topped with Mexican white cheese, griddled and browned chorizo, and a griddled slice of ham. They lay on the normal fixins, but I opted for a schmear of refried beans on the bottom bun; I had to explain what a "schmear" was to the fellow working the counter. It comes with a big side of crispy fries (probably frozen, but high quality and done well), perfect when dipped into a mixture of the smoky hot salsa blended with a little ketchup. I had a little bun breakage to deal with, but it had a lot to contain. The burgers here are first-rate.

Once again Mi Ranchito II was presented with a difficult task: satisfy a demand for a great bowl of soup and a high class burger, both at reasonable prices, and once again, they came through like the champions that they are.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The classic Mayan face profile displayed in this fantastic shot taken by old pals Burt Jones and Maurine Shimlock, of secretseavisions.com. They lived down in Q. Roo for years and are amazing photographers, above and below the surface!: http://www.secretseavisions.com/

Below find the last recipe installment of the 1st Annual Mayan Fin del Mundo Fiesta, The Recipes Part III, which involves the side dishes, the condiments and salsas, and the dessert (with some notes on ingredients). The world ends (or begins) infrequently, so you might as well make the best of it my homies!

Sides:

Lentejas Estilo Yucateca -- Yucatan-Style Lentils

Serves
8
Make this dish using black beans instead of lentils, make it a little bit soupier and
omit the potatoes and chayote, and it becomes bul keken, which is the traditional Monday meal for Mayans (like
red beans and rice in Cajun country).

¼ pound bacon, diced½ pound pork shoulder, cut into
½-inch cubes

2 carrots, peeled and cut into
½-inch cubes

1 large chayote, peeled and cut
into ½-inch cubes

1 medium potato, peeled and cut
into ½-inch cubes

1 medium onion, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced

3 canned whole tomatoes, minced

1 pound brown lentils, picked
through for pebbles, rinsed

Chicken broth to cover lentils by
about 2½-inches

3 güero chiles, chopped (2
jalapeños may be substituted, ribs and seeds removed for less heat)

Salt to taste
Cilantro sprigs for garnish

Place the bacon in a pot over
medium heat; cook until crisp and fat has rendered. Remove the bacon with a
slotted spoon, leaving the fat. Add the pork to the pot, brown on all sides,
and remove.
Add the carrots, chayote, potatoes, onion, garlic, and tomato. Sauté the
vegetables, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes.

Add the lentils, return the pork
cubes to the pot and cover with broth by about 2½ -inches. Simmer, covered,
until the meat and lentils are tender, adding more broth as needed; it should
have a thick consistency.

Return the bacon to the pot and
add the chile. Simmer an additional 10 minutes and taste for salt. Garnish with
cilantro and serve.Arroz Verde -- Green RiceServes
8Green rice gets its name from the herbs (cilantro, parsley, epazote),
seasonings (scallions), and chiles (roasted poblano rajas) used to flavor and color the dish. A roasted green habanero
can be substituted for one of the poblanos if a much spicier version is
desired.
3 Tbl lard, or 1 Tbl butter + 2 Tbl vegetable oil
2 cups long-grain white rice, rinsed and thoroughly drained
4 scallions, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 large chiles poblanos, roasted, peeled and seeded, chopped
4 cups chicken stock, heated
¾ cup flat-leaf parsley, coarsely chopped and firmly packed
¾ cup cilantro (substitute 2 Tbl epazote for a portion of the cilantro, if
available), coarsely chopped and
firmly packed
1 Tbl lime zest
Heat the lard (or the oil and butter) in a heavy skillet; add the rice and
sauté, stirring frequently, for about 5 minutes or until the rice turns opaque.
Add the scallions, garlic, and poblanos and continue cooking another 5 minutes,
or until the onions and garlic are translucent.
Liquefy 1 cup of the stock with the parsley and cilantro using a blender or
processor. Add to the rice mixture and cook over high heat until liquid is mostly
absorbed and you see small air pockets bubbling on the surface. Add the lime
zest and the remaining 3 cups of stock to the rice. Bring to a boil, and then
reduce to a simmer. Cook about 10 minutes, or until water is mostly absorbed
and you see little air pockets bubbling on the surface. Cover the skillet with
a lid wrapped in a clean, damp towel. Simmer 5 minutes more and remove from
heat. Check rice after 15 minutes. Fluff with a fork before service. Condiments:

Immerse the onion slices in boiling salted water for a few seconds to blanch,
and immediately rinse in cold water to chill. Drain well, and place the onions
in a nonreactive bowl or glass jar. Add all remaining ingredients, cover and
refrigerate overnight. Shake gently periodically
to evenly distribute seasonings. Xnipec – “Dog's Nose” Fresh Salsa

Yield
about 1 cup Xni-Pec (pronounced shnee’-pek); in
Mayan, xni translates to “dog” and pec to “nose”, because when you eat this
salsa your nose is wet and runny like a dog’s nose. The much more widely
available güero chile substitutes for the yellow and relatively mild xcatik (AKA caribe, carricillo, caloro, trompita)
chiles of Yucatán. A milder substitute would be the hot banana pepper or yellow
Hungarian wax pepper.

Combine the chiles, tomato, onion, scallion, garlic, cilantro, sour orange
juice, and salt in a serving bowl. Toss to mix. Correct the seasoning, adding
more sour orange juice as necessary. The salsa tastes best served within 3
hours of making. K’uut bi Ik/Chile K’uut – Pounded Dried
Chile SalsaYield
about ¾ cup
K’uut in Mayan means “crushed or pounded” and ik is the Mayan word for chile. Traditionally
it is made using the small dried chile de país, instead of the much spicier
dried habanero. In Yucatán this sauce is pulverized using a mortar and pestle,
but a blender is much easier and faster. El Yucatec makes a bottled version of
this sauce if you’re feeling lazy, but homemade always tastes better.

Combine 20 chiles de arbol with water, juice, and salt in a blender. Liquefy on
high for 2-3 minutes or until chiles are pulverized. Add remaining chiles to
the blender and pulse to mince the chiles, allowing them to remain chunky in
the finished sauce. Taste for salt. Taste for sugar but use sparingly, just to
add richness and balance the flavor. Allow to rest 30 minutes at room
temperature before service; will keep chilled for 2 weeks.

Note: For a milder sauce, substitute chilaca or ancho chiles for the chiles de
arbol (or for a portion of the chiles de arbol). For a hotter sauce do not
remove the seeds and ribs of the chiles, or substitute a portion of dried
habanero chiles.

Dessert:

Cabellero Pobre -- “Frenched” Bread Pudding with Cinnamon Syrup and PecansServes 8
This dish is found on many Yucatecan restaurant menus and is very popular all
over the peninsula. The bread is dipped in the style of French bread, and then
coated with meringue before it is fried. The bread gets layered with a rich
cinnamon-pecan syrup before being baked.,

Combine milk, sugar, and vanilla. Dip each slice of bread completely into milk
mixture and drain in a colander over a bowl. Beat the egg white to form stiff
peaks and fold the beaten yolks carefully into the whites. Heat the oil in a
skillet over medium heat. Dip each slice of bread into the meringue to coat the
exterior and fry in the oil, cooking both sides until golden brown. Remove and
drain on paper towels. Reserve.
Combine water, sugar, piloncillo, cloves, allspice, nutmeg, and canela in a
small saucepan over medium heat and stir until the sugar and piloncillo is
dissolved. Cook slowly until the syrup coats a spoon. Strain through a sieve
into another small pan, discarding the cloves and allspice berries. Place
canela sticks on parchment or wax paper to cool. Add pecans and brandy to the
syrup and cook another 5 minutes (syrup will thicken again). Stir diced butter
into syrup and reserve.
Preheat the oven to 350° and lightly butter a 5½ quart baking dish. Line the
bottom of the dish with the fried slices of bread. Pour on a large spoonful of
the pecan syrup, and add another layer of bread slices. Top with the remaining
pecan syrup, evenly arranging the pecans on the top. Bake uncovered 35 minutes,
or until you see the syrup boiling and caramelizing. Garnish with the canela
sticks.

To make the optional brandy-butter sauce: In a small, heavy saucepan, bring the cream to a boil. Stir in the
butter and sugar. Temper by pouring some of this mixture into the egg yolks
while whisking. Return mixture to the pan and simmer, whisking constantly, just
until the mixture thickens; do not boil. Remove from the heat and stir in the Mexican
brandy.Serve with whipped cream flavored
with a bit of powdered sugar, Mexican vanilla, and a few drops of brandy, or with
a scoop of Bluebell Mexican Praline Ice Cream.

Note: Raisins can be added if desired; almonds or walnuts can be substituted for the
pecans. Mocha Café – Mocha Coffee
Mayans loved their cacao, and used the pods and beans as a form of money. To
cap off the Mayan dinner, take a cup of strong coffee using beans grown in the
mountains south of Xalapa, from the coffee farms around Coatepec, Xico, or
Teocelo, and stir in 1 tablespoon of unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder and
1 tablespoon of sugar or piloncillo (or a little more, to taste). Top it with
cream to taste, and perhaps a sprinkle of canela (Mexican cinnamon). Notes:Sour Oranges:
Sour oranges were imported to the Yucatán by the Spanish in the 1500’s from
southwestern Spain, and the native birds did a great job of spreading them
around. To closely mimic the taste of sour orange juice, combine 2 parts fresh
orange juice with 1 part Mexican or Key lime juice and 1 part fresh grapefruit
juice.

Yucatecan Chiles:
Chile pepper = ik’ in Maya
Most culinary historians now believe that Yucatán was the home of the
domesticated chile, and that they developed on the peninsula as early as 8,000
BC; habanero chiles originated there as well. The Spaniards mistakenly named
the habanero chiles (“of Havana)” and the name stuck; ironic since Cuban food
is not particularly spicy. The Maya cultivated as many as 30 varieties of
chiles, and used them constantly in their cuisine.

Pequin: small “bird” peppers; very hot and citrusy, very small and pointed,
native, used fresh in salsas; Tuxtla – a southern Mexico
form of pequin; Amash – a very hot wild form
of pequin that grows in Yucatán; Max – alternate name for pequin
in Yucatán

Puya -- AKA guajillo, pulla, colmillo de elefante; smaller and slightly hotter
than the guajillo; cooked in sauces;
taste is especially fruity; also used dried